Traveling back to 1952, starting a comeback from a relief station

He Daqing's actions.

The three people in the room, besides himself, were completely dumbfounded.

Yan Bugui, clutching the half-eaten roast chicken, walked out of the house in a daze, and even after returning to the front yard, he still hadn't recovered.

"How did Wang Anping manage to do that?!"

Yan Bugui was amazed and still couldn't figure it out.

But he figured out one thing completely—he must never mess with this kid in the future, or he wouldn't even know he'd been tricked!

As for what exactly happened to He Daqing...

Yan Bugui simply stopped thinking about it.

I was originally thinking of finding an opportunity to get those two pots of red plum blossoms back, but now I've completely given up on that idea—it's better to avoid trouble and not create any more problems for myself!

The He family.

Sha Zhu was still muttering incessantly.

He wasn't really that fond of meat; after all, he was an apprentice in the steel mill canteen, and whenever the canteen served meat dishes, he could always get a taste of meat.

But roast chicken is something you can't easily enjoy on a regular basis.

What he couldn't understand was why his own father would give Yan Bugui half a roast chicken for no reason.

He Daqing tore off the chicken's rear end and threw it into Sha Zhu's bowl, saying irritably:

"Just eat yours!"

"When have you ever lacked food?"

"If it's just you and Yushui left at home in the future, you'd better take good care of your sister and not just think about yourself."

Sha Zhu was stunned:

"Dad, do you have some kind of terminal illness?"

"I hope he won't end up like Jia Dongxu's father, just gone like that!"

Snapped!

(Can easily handle being surrounded by 2-3 ordinary adult men, can deal head-on with street thugs wielding sticks, has basic skills in parrying and deflecting force, and will not be easily hit in vital areas by blunt weapons.)

At the same time, Wang Anping felt a wave of relief wash over him.

He knew that if he ran at full speed now, he would be much faster than before; his lower body was also much more stable, and he could make more complex and flexible movements. Even if he was attacked by several people at the same time, he could easily dodge.

As the improvement gradually slowed down, he also broke out of that state, and his proficiency level had now reached 112.

Comfortable!

Wang Anping stretched.

When he opened his eyes, he found the old man from yesterday watching him from not far away again, so he could only smile and nod once more.

I got into the zone quickly today, and it's still early.

He stretched his arms and legs, kicked and twisted his waist, and did a set of radio calisthenics—something he had learned from He Yushui last night for a piece of fruit candy.

Hmm, doing this actually increases my proficiency, though it's pitifully little, but it's better than nothing.

Just as Wang Anping was packing up to leave, the old man suddenly called out to him:

"Young man, what kind of kung fu were you practicing just now?"

Wang Anping glanced around. Although the small park was remote, there were still people exercising nearby, mostly elderly men and women from the neighborhood. He figured the old man was probably a resident of the area as well.

He waved his hand and said casually:

"Hey, I was just practicing randomly."

Zhou Wenyi smiled but didn't point it out.

He could tell at a glance whether the young man was just practicing haphazardly or not; the stance he had just practiced was genuine skill.

He was puzzled, though. Yesterday, when he saw this kid practicing his horse stance, it was crooked and disorganized. Today, however, his horse stance was showing signs of becoming quite proficient.

Could this kid be someone's disciple?

However, his moves do not reveal any particular style of boxing.

Especially that last moment, after finishing the stance training, they immediately followed up with a set of radio calisthenics, which was really an eyesore.

It was precisely because he could tell that this kid probably hadn't seriously practiced martial arts that he took the initiative to stop him, wanting to find out more about the other party's background.

Zhou Wenyi began by saying:

"I know a little boxing, would you like to learn?"

Wang Anping was taken aback, wondering to himself, "Could it be that I've encountered a reclusive master? Is he going to teach me the Tathagata Palm?" But he first asked the most practical question:

"Um, is there tuition involved?"

Wang Anping definitely needed to clarify this point first.

As for whether it was genuine martial arts, Wang Anping wasn't worried; the system would definitely give him the answer eventually.

Zhou Wenyi was taken aback for a moment, then waved his hand:

"Need not."

"Oh, so you want to become my apprentice?"

"I'd rather not become an apprentice; it's too much trouble."

Zhou Wenyi was taken aback again, feeling a little depressed. After thinking for a moment, he shook his head.

"There's no need to become an apprentice."

In the past, if he encountered such a promising talent, he would have carefully examined him and figured out his background before deciding whether to teach him or not.

But now I don't have much time left.

I was so proactive because I really didn't want all my knowledge to be lost.

He could tell that this young man, though young, was quite cunning and seemed to want to avoid trouble, so he had to find a pretext:

"It's just a set of military boxing techniques; many people know it."

"You seem quite interested in these things, so let's exchange ideas."

Looking at the sickly old man in front of him, Wang Anping was full of doubt. How could this man know military boxing? Could he be a retired soldier?

Wang Anping suddenly thought of his predecessor's uncle.

He's not stupid. A complete stranger, an old man, is eager to teach him. Who would believe he doesn't have something to gain?

However, since the other party didn't say anything, he pretended to be confused and acted as if he knew nothing.

If there's something wrong, just wait for the other party to say it—if it's not too much trouble, I'd be happy to lend a hand; but if it's too difficult, then he definitely won't get involved.

With that in mind, he stood aside with a clear conscience, waiting for the old man to demonstrate.

But what happened next took Wang Anping by surprise.

The old man, who had looked sickly, straightened up and struck a strange pose as soon as he stood up to demonstrate. Instantly, he looked like a fully drawn bow, ready to be released.

Immediately afterwards, the old man chopped forward with his palm.

The movements were swift and decisive, like chopping wood with an axe.

Wang Anping watched in disbelief—had he encountered the old man in the ring?

Although he said he didn't understand the intricacies of boxing.

However, it was also clear that this old man was no ordinary person.

That simple palm strike, though it didn't involve any shouting or bravado, was imbued with an indescribable artistic conception, and its swiftness was pleasing to the eye.